Page 9 of Lady Mariel’s Scandalous Love

“Not even the topic of the book?”

“Especially not the topic of the book.”

~~~~~

The day was crisp and clear, the pale winter sun drawing glittering sparkles from the melting frost, as Alex rode across the fields towards Longwood Peak. Beneath him, Sovrano moved with an urgent energy, glad to be out of the stables after the winter months. Alex gave him his head, and they raced across the glittering landscape, full of the simple pleasure of movement.

Eventually, he brought the horse back to a steady walk, allowing him to cool down without chilling.

At Longwood Peak, a footman rushed out to take the horse and lead it around to the stables.

“His name is Sovrano. See that he gets a rub down and some hay, for I’m likely to be here for some hours.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Alex went up the steps, and Chalmers opened the door, smiling as Alex stepped into the foyer.

“Where might I find Lord Longwood, Chalmers?”

“In the storage rooms, on this floor of the East Wing, Your Grace. Let me show you.”

Alex followed him down the long hall towards the end of the main wing, and through a rather worn looking door, then along another short corridor. Chalmers tapped on a door, opened it, and announced, still standing well back from the opening, through which a puff of dust exited, “His Grace of Southolton,” then waved Alex past.

Inside, Alex found Dash standing amidst huge piles of crates, digging into the open one in front of him. Curls of wood shavings were tangled in his dark hair, and every movement disturbed more dust.

“Well, you certainly didn’t exaggerate when you said that you had collected a lot! No wonder you didn’t invite me in to this room last time I was here.”

“Oh, this is only one room – there are another three, full of crates I haven’t opened yet. Plus the things that I have unpacked, which are placed in various rooms of this wing, but not yet displayed in any sort of proper order. I’ll show you some of it, if you like.”

Dash dug into the crate again, as Alex watched, and pulled out a cloth wrapped bundle, shaking the wood shavings from its surface. Dust puffed into the air. He then carried the wrapped object away from the crate, and gently unfolded the cloth from around it. The light through the window caught the object as he lifted it free, and Alex gasped, stepping forward to get a better view of it.

In his hands, Dash held a polished object, made of what looked to be onyx, or some similar very dark stone. An object which was, now that he saw it clearly, a very precise rendition of a very large cock. The Italians called such things ‘dilettos’ – Alex had seen them before, but never one made of black stone, nor one quite as large as this one. Just the sight of it set his mind to imagining its use, and how a woman might react to such a thing. How Selina might react. He licked his lips at the thought.

“That is a remarkable piece, Dash, far more detailed than any I have seen before.”

~~~~~

Dash ran a hand over it, removing the last of the dust, and smiled at Alex’s words.

“It is beautifully carved. The man who made this is, in my opinion, a master sculptor. I bought it from a rather seedy little shop in Rome, where the shopkeeper gave me some undoubtedly fictional story of it having been made for a lady who had travelled into Africa with her husband, and become rather enamoured of some of the locals. I find the story unlikely, but the piece is wonderful, no matter who made it or why. I have quite a collection of these, but this is the only dark stone one – the others are ivory, or silver, and sometimes hardened leather.”

He took the diletto to the table, and set it down with the other pieces he had unpacked that day. Alex, beside him, ran his eyes over the assembled pieces with interest. Dash was beginning to see that, until now, Alex’s comprehension of the scale and variety of his collection had been limited. Alex shook his head in wonderment.

“You can give me the tour of what is unpacked so far another day – although I am keen to see it. Today, I came to talk to you about something, which I think will solve a problem for you, if you are willing to be even more unconventional than you already are, to get what you want.”

Dash looked at his friend, wondering what Alex was talking about, then shrugged.

“I’ve a relatively dust free room, with brandy, just down the hall. Let us repair there, and talk in comfort.”

He waited until Alex had moved to the door, then attempted to brush as much dust as possible from his person, before going out into the hall. A few minutes later, they sat in comfortable chairs, before a pleasant fireplace, in a room occupied only by stacks of ledgers, which held his inventory records.

Alex took the brandy that Dash handed him, and sipped, almost as if not sure where to start with whatever he had come to talk about – which was very, very curious, as Alex had not ever been one to hesitate about anything, to Dash’s knowledge. Finally, he spoke.

“The other day, you told me of your frustration with the book written in Russian – I’d love to see it, by the way – and I think that I have a solution to your problem.” Dash felt his heart begin to pound at the very idea – but where on earth would Alex have found a person who could help him? Alex continued, his eyes fixed on Dash, as if expecting something to happen. “A solution which – well, who, to be precise – is resident in my house at present, and for the next month or more. To put it to you directly – Lady Mariel speaks, reads, and writes Russian. She was taught as a child, by her grandmother.”

Dash choked on his brandy.

“You are suggesting, aren’t you, that I ask a gently reared young woman of the ton to translate a scandalous and very explicitly illustrated book about erotic pursuits? Just as if that was an ordinary sort of request to make of an innocent unmarried young woman? Are you mad, Alex?”